


Dragons Versus Coyotes

by bonebo, UzbekistanRules



Series: Shimadacest 2016 [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Minor Character Death, implied mcgenji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:25:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UzbekistanRules/pseuds/UzbekistanRules
Summary: The Shimada are interested in selling weapons across the pond in America. So naturally they start off with the Deadlock Gang- a notorious band of brigands who rule the Southwest with an iron fist.Lord Shimada- in his infinite wisdom- sends both of his sons to deal with the mangy mutts.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A _massive_ shout out to [bonebo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo) who co-wrote this with me. Well- when I say 'co-wrote' I actually mean this is the very first part of an RP we had going on. I just... Kind of took it and prettied it up.

Hanzo scowled at the heat radiating in through the windows of the hover-limo. America was stupid, he mused again; and this particular part of America was extra stupid. This entire endeavour was absolutely and utterly _beyond stupid_. Why Otou-sama insisted on sending both of his sons to this hellhole of a place when one- _Genji_ , his mind supplied quietly- would do was beyond his comprehension. 

But Hanzo could not really complain about it, because Genji _was_ here after all; an increasing rarity, these days. But still... the heat would kill him, were he not careful. 

“Oi. Oni-san.” Hanzo looked up through the divide in the car, staring at the side of the omnic’s gleaming head. “When are we going to get there already?”

“Patience, Hanzo-sama. We shall arrive shortly.” 

Hanzo felt his scowl deepen at the words. Even with the air conditioning in the limo, he still felt as if he was going to die. 

“Anija...” Genji’s voice cut in, soothing as a cold rag to the back of the neck. There was a shallow cup of sake in his hands as he lounged in the seat opposite Hanzo, legs spread wide and a lazy grin on his face. “You’re already so angry…just relax. We haven’t even seen anyone yet! Have something to drink, calm down.” 

Hanzo watched as his little brother stretched cat-like on the seat, propping his feet up just inches from Hanzo’s thigh. Watched as that calloused hand opened his gi just a little bit more, exposing a hint of the vibrant green tattoo that covered his chest and arm, a mirror image of Hanzo’s own. His eyes flicked up when Genji gave him a wink and held out the cup in invitation. “You want some of my sake? I have to warn you... It tastes better coming from my mouth.”

Hanzo could do nothing but huff in irritation at the lewd display. Otou-sama had given them an important mission, and he would not allow anything to fuck that up. 

Not even Genji. 

And yet... he almost couldn’t help himself, standing to slip gracefully into his brother’s lap, straddling him easily. 

“You are slovenly,” he chastised, his voice lacking any real bite to it. “You should not be drinking. Deadlock will seek to test us, and it will not do if they think we are like them. We are Shimada.”

Genji did nothing but take another sip, raising one eyebrow. Hanzo huffed again but kissed him all the same, forcing his lips to part so he could take the swallow into his own mouth. They sat like that awhile, liquor and tongues moving against one another in a sensuous battle before Hanzo claimed the sake for himself, pulling back and swallowing. Setting the cup aside, Genji placed his hands against Hanzo’s hips with a smirk.

“They’re not on our level- nowhere near. Calm down. They aren’t worth the stress.” The green dragon gave his elder brother another soft peck, moving his hands against those wonderfully strong thighs, feeling the hard muscle beneath the soft cloth. He heard his brother hum above him in thought.

“They are not,” Hanzo finally agreed. “Still- there is no reason to get sloppy.” He moved Genji’s gi back so it sat properly, all the while trailing kisses up that beautiful skin. “Try to be serious for once?”

Genji whined as he was neatened up by Hanzo, pouting at the unfairness of the situation. “Don’t kill the cutest one,” he begged. “Let me have some fun first. Please?”

Hanzo shot his brother a withering glare, moving back off of him and onto the seat beside them. “If they try to kill me, I will not spare them. Remember that man back in Taiwan? Not a half hour ago you had been fucking him and yet he still had the nerve to brandish a gun in my face.”

“And he was such a good fuck too, anija... Slapped me around just right.” He moaned at the memory, eyes sliding closed and his hand dipping to palm his cock through the thin hakama. “How far away from the target are we? Do you think I have enough time to suck on your balls a bit?”

From the driver’s seat, the omnic coughed politely. Not because he needed to, but to draw attention to himself “We are almost there, Genji-sama.”

“Then there will not be enough time. Besides, I would rather not sport a boner if I can help it. Finish your drink and be prepared.” A cruel smirk played across Hanzo’s face before he allowed it to drop. “We have an audience to entertain.”

“Maaaaa...” Genji huffed dramatically, but picked up the half drained cup of sake, downing it in one long gulp. He straightened, grabbing Dragonblade from the floorboard and running his hand happily along the hilt. “I’m ready. I’ll try to save some bodies for you, okay?”

“Try not to get blood on your hakama this time, hmmm? We are Shimada. Immaculate.” 

“And Yuuna-san complains when we get blood on ourselves,” Genji piped up helpfully.

“And Yuuna-san complains when we get blood on ourselves,” Hanzo repeated, amused. He shifted as he felt the limo slow and come to an idle rest in front of what looked at first glance to be an ‘abandoned’ warehouse. It was not as abandoned as it was made out to be... if one knew where to look. The Shimada knew exactly where to find the sniper’s nests and watchtowers, how to spot the scuff marks of shoes and vehicles on the ground. And at every point Hanzo could not see one person waiting outside to greet them. How pathetic these Deadlocks were. It would have been a more strategic move to show that the place was swarming with men, all ready and willing to cut the dragons down at the first sign of insolence. 

But no. They would be greeted by each and every member of Deadlock, presumably in one room. Foolish. And yet Hanzo could not help but thank the idiot dog who thought of the idea. It would only hammer home the idea that the Shimada were not to be taken lightly, even with their inferior numbers. 

“Oni-san,” Hanzo ordered. “Stay in the limo. Keep it running.”

“Yes, Hanzo-sama,” the omnic murmured deferrentally.

Genji grinned before he fixed his scarf to cover the lower half of his face. He opened the limo door and stepped out of it with a flourish. He took his time to buckle Dragonblade to his belt before finally- finally!- walking around to open Hanzo’s own door. 

Hanzo checked himself in a small mirror hanging in the limo- the long ponytail secured lowly, his makeup still intact- before he slowly stepped out. He allowed the filthy American dogs to watch from wherever their vantage points were as he buckled on Stormblade. Allow them to see the ‘male’ and ‘female’ representatives of the Shimada clan. Let them see the two as weak, old fashioned, fragile. They would see soon enough. Genji would appear to take the lead and Hanzo would ‘follow,’ looking meek and submissive all the while. That would be... until it was time for the charade to end. He allowed himself a mild smile, all the while his heart raced in excitement. He couldn’t wait to spill their blood.

Genji was kind enough to offer his arm to Hanzo as he began to shuffle forward, guiding the pair of them to the entrance of the warehouse. Underneath the scarf, his grin turned feral. “On your mark, Anija. Just tell me when to strike.” 

It was a damn good thing that all of these gaijin were so dumb that they could not understand Japanese. Surely Father would disapprove of such bold language anywhere else. Still, Hanzo nodded and shied away, falling into step with his brother. Hanzo trembled, but not out of fear. No... his trembling was of excitement, an electric thrill running up his spine. His dragons longed to feast, but he would not let them. Not yet. Not. Yet. He wanted these American dogs to think that the Shimadas were fools. Besides, they would be helpless against the might that were the Shimada. The dragons did not need to come out yet.

The dusty facade gave way to a shabby, rickey space; walls of cloth and walls of free-standing glass bottles and walls of anything but actual sheetrock and drywall. It was... a little sad, if Hanzo was being honest with himself. These desert rats lived and worked like sardines in a can. For all of their drug running and their weapons smuggling, one would think that they would at least have a nice facility. How pathetic.

The heat set in, making Hanzo feel horrible. He could feel the sweat beading up against his hairline, and he wanted nothing more to crawl back to the limo and hide from this inexorable muginess. Instead he bowed to the five men that had come to greet the Japanese delegation, murmuring politely in Japanese, “Go to hell, you pieces of pig shit.”

His eyes flick up just in time to catch the Americans smiling, big and dumb and full of themselves. Two against five was supposedly uneven odds, but not to a Shimada. It would have taken double this compliment to even slow them down.

“What she say?” asks one. Perhaps they were hoping that Genji spoke English since clearly the ‘girl’ did not.

Genji grinned amiably, even as Hanzo pulled himself out of the bow. Hanzo didn’t grimace as he felt his brother kiss him on the cheek and say in an airy tone of voice, “She said that she loves the weather here. The sun feels nice on her skin.”

He gave the men a moment to process the statement, then adds almost thoughtfully, “But she also said that she’s really thirsty. You fine gentlemen wouldn’t happen to have anything for a lady to drink, would you?”

Five pairs of eyes go wide with lust. Hanzo- remaining a shy flower- moved slightly away from ‘her’ brother and the men both. The men before them swagger closer, posture menacing. It was easy enough to tell what was going to happen. They thought that Genji was here to whore ‘her’ out as a way of keeping peace between Shimada and Deadlock. How wrong they were.

“Now,” Hanzo murmured as the Deadlocks drew closer. Quick as lightning, he felt his brother take a single swing with the blade he wore as Hanzo did the same. Had anyone been witness to their brutality, the five before them had suddenly died without any instance of anyone moving. 

“Mmmmm... It’s not enough. I want more.” Hanzo looked to the cooling bodies and the literally rolling heads, licking the tiny bit of blood that got on his blade clean.

Genji snickered, sheathing his blade and kicking one of the heads, sending it rolling away from them both. “Hey, hey, Anija... play with me, hmmm?” He laughed at his own joke, the alcohol making him slightly careless. In his moment of laxness, his dragon hummed under his skin, sending pale green light coiling up his right arm.

Hanzo scoffed at the display, regretting allowing Genji to even have any alcohol at all, for allowing himself alcohol. This display was unacceptable. “Calm, brother mine. We will play soon enough. But first we must work. Calm.” He began to do a simple deep breathing exercise in the hopes that Genji would follow along. They had to act as if nothing was wrong before they stepped into the main room.

Genji followed the breathing exercises, but not before punting another severed head against a wall of the warehouse with a childlike viciousness.

“Better?” Hanzo asked, raising a brow at him.

“Better,” Genji echoed, his grin sharp.

Hanzo nodded, returning to his brother’s side once more as the demure damsel. It was a little awkward, making sure they didn’t step in any blood or kick any bodies, but they made it spotlessly into the main room. All eyes bore themselves into the two Japanese people who came in. The elder brother had been right- they really all were here. 

But ah-! Even in the overly crowded, overly hot room, Genji spotted a young brunette in the back. He winked at the cutie and chuckled when he tipped his hat so he couldn’t see either of them. How cute. 

It would be fun to break him.

“See someone you want?” Hano murmured in Japanese. He could feel the men around them shift, staring at them, sizing them up. He could see in their eyes how they were planning on separating them, killing or capturing Genji, how best to tie Hanzo up to use ‘her’ for their pleasure, how to send the rest of the Shimada-gumi their regards. He kept the small smile on his face as they made their way up to the front where their leader was sitting. How rude. No chairs for anyone else. Not even for their guests.

“I did,” Genji replied in English. Just to unnerve everyone else. Who knew what they were speaking about? “Young. About seventeen. Back corner.” He turned to over a salacious little wave to the boy in question, before turning back to face the leader of the Deadlocks, already posturing. Genji at least was wise enough to switch to Japanese as he asked, “Kill him together then?”

“Go low. Make it quick.” Before the leader of the Deadlocks could process what was said, he was gutted and beheaded from one breath to the next. The red looked so delicious pouring from the wounds, but what was even better was the collective intake of breath from the room around them. Hanzo straightened himself out and tsked. A few drops of blood got onto his gi. How unfortunate. 

Ah, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Listen here, American dogs.” Hanzo turned and looked around the room, catching each and every eye. He saw the shock, saw the horror when he revealed he could not only speak perfect English but was also actually male. How utterly delightful. “You think yourselves strong because you have not had a challenge. Here now is your opponent and here is our ultimatum: bow to the Shimada or die like your leader.”

Genji kept his blade drawn as he took up a stance beside Hanzo. It was no surprise, however, when the Deadlocks laid down their arms, looking upset but resigned over the situation. From there it was simply talking over terms with the newly appointed leader, which Hanzo was more than happy to deal with himself. Genji was content to watch the gang members eye him and Hanzo both, watching his brother’s back and finding that cute young thing with the goatee and the red kerchief. Wouldn’t he make a fine young pet?

Genji knew Hanzo wasn’t going to like it- but he couldn’t bring himself to truly care. An American to break, one with a low accent and a sweet smile and such a cute blush. As they left, Genji grabbed the brunette’s arm and gave him a lecherous smile. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“God- hija de puta- it ain’t none of your damn business who I am,” he spat back, wrenching his arm free. Oh, that accent! That was a nice one, thick and rich and honey sweet, even when he was upset.

“You forget, dog,” Hanzo said beside Genji, one eyebrow raised, “It _is_ our business as to who you are. Answer the question.”

Brown eyes flickered from Hanzo to Genji and back to Hanzo again. “...Jesse McCree.”

“Well then, Mackuree-san... You’re coming with us.” Genji couldn’t help the little wolfish grin that appeared on his face when the American blanched. Oh... this one would be _fun_.


End file.
